


two human souls

by ladydetective



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, idk how to properly tag susanna but whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11267643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydetective/pseuds/ladydetective
Summary: In a world where soulmarks appear on a child's body at the age of seven, Luisa Alver awakes one morning to find the words 'Clara Ruvelle' imprinted on her wrist. It brings her more trouble than she bargained for.





	two human souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dottiecoopers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottiecoopers/gifts).



> 1\. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ABBIE!!!!!! I hope you have an amazing day followed by an amazing year. Have some angst.  
> 2\. I'd appreciate feedback on this since I'm a little unsure of where it went....

Luisa had always believed in soulmates, ever since she was a little girl. She remembered the excitement that had permeated the air when she’d been in second grade – people would come into school every day with the news that their soulmarks had come in, and speculate loudly about what their future soulmate would be like. Luisa would frantically check her wrist every morning, searching for any sign of an emerging tattoo. She was disappointed more often than not, but had been quickly able to shrug it off. She was, after all, still a child. All it took was the promise of an ice-cream or a particularly interesting new game to play with her friends, and her mind was sufficiently occupied.

One morning, though, Luisa woke up to a peculiar burning sensation on her wrist. She cried out in pain, not aware of the cause, before looking down. There were words on her wrist! Two words, twelve letters, written in an elegant, cursive script: _Clara Ruvelle._ She caressed it wonderingly, her pain momentarily forgotten. This was the person that she’d love, and who would love her in return. She hoped that they would be happy together – but knew that that wasn’t always possible. Even as a child, Luisa understood that finding your soulmate didn’t guarantee a lifetime of happiness. Her mother and father had been soulmates – her father had told her the story of waking up to his own mark – but then her mother had died, and their happiness had been severed.

But still, Luisa believed. And that was a very powerful thing.

 _Oh_ , she realised with a start, _Clara is a girl’s name_. She wondered if that mattered, if that made her different.

* * *

 

She discovered that day in school that it did, in fact, make her different. She proudly showed off her mark to the people in her class, but they did not react the same way that they normally did. Usually, they’d grab the person’s hand and coo over the mark with a mixture of excitement and envy, then assist them in speculating over who their soulmate could possibly be. Instead, they looked at it, and then at her – always with a strange look in their eyes that belied their confusion – and said nothing. Luisa did not understand why it was such a big deal, but she learned to wear her sleeves just that little bit lower, to stop people from looking at her that way.

At the end of school that day, another girl had tentatively approached her and shown her her own arm. It also held the name of another girl on it – it was not Luisa’s own name, and they were not soulmates – but they’d been friends ever since.

* * *

 

As Luisa grew older and made her way through life, she became more and more jaded about the concept of _soulmates_. She still wanted one – almost more than anything – but it was difficult. As she’d once watched her friends receive a soulmark one-by-one, she was now witnessing them meet and marry their soulmates, all while she was still alone. It was _depressing_.

She hadn’t been _entirely_ alone – there had been a fair number of casual hook-ups and short-winded relationships. She’d enjoyed them, they’d been fun – but they hadn’t felt right. As a gynaecologist, she’d heard dozens of testimonials young couples expecting their first children with their soulmates. All of them described what is was like to meet your soulmate for the first time, agreed on how different the sex was when it was with them, and Luisa wanted that. She wanted to be loved in that way.

Then she met Rose.

She’d been sitting in her favourite bar, watching the couples around her with a kind of seething jealousy and seriously considering the merits of breaking her newly reformed sobriety. The air changed as soon as the other woman walked in, becoming thick and laden with tension. Luisa could feel this odd pull, begging her to turn around and face the entryway. She couldn’t’ve resisted if she tried.

She was the most beautiful woman that she’d ever seen. Her red dress was sinfully tight, clinging to her in all the right places. It accentuated every curve in her body, and Luisa couldn’t look away. Her hair was long and red, tumbling down in curls along her back. She wanted to run her hands through it, to see if it was really as soft and well-put-together as it looked.

It seemed that the other woman also felt the instant attraction, the same mysterious pull as she looked immediately in Luisa’s direction, and smiled. It was a slow, sensual smile, that seemed to overtake her whole face. She walked over, her gait radiating an unusually cool confidence. Luisa _loved_ it.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ She asked, voice reflecting the confidence of her posture.

Luisa smiled wryly, and lifted up her glass of water. This would be the woman’s first test. ‘Thirty four days sober.’

Rose nodded and gave her an understanding smile, not letting the news phase her. ‘Gotcha,’ she said, without missing a beat, ‘I’m just getting out of the drug world myself.’

Luisa felt her hopes raise themselves even higher. Most women would run a mile when the first thing that the person they’re trying to come on to in a bar tells them about themselves is that they’re an alcoholic. Many already had, but Luisa felt that it was something better gotten out of the way early.

‘What’s your name?’ Asked Luisa, barely able to contain her excitement. _This was it_ , she thought, _this is the moment that I’ve been waiting for my whole life!_

‘Rose,’ replied the redhead, confident smile never leaving her face. ‘How about you?’

Luisa tilted her head in confusion. She had to have heard that wrong, there had to be some kind of mistake. She’d heard of this sometimes happening – people meeting soulmates years before they knew what they were to each other by some kind of mishap with their names. It could happen – it has to be what happened here. ‘Could you say that again?’ She asked, trying to sound more at ease than she actually felt.

The other woman’s brow furrowed at the odd tone in Luisa’s voice, but she responded. ‘Rose. My name is Rose.’

‘Are you sure?’ Luisa asked, desperation tinging her words.

‘Am I sure what my name is? Of course I am,’ replied Rose, just a little too quickly. _Did this woman know something about her?_ ‘What’s your name?’ She asked, repeating her question from earlier with more insistence.

 _Damn it_ , thought Luisa, her heart constricting with disappointment and her mood plummeting. She didn’t get it – she’d _just_ felt everything that you were supposed to feel when you met your soulmate for the first time, and _yet_ – of course not. Of fucking course Rose wasn’t her soulmate. Because that was just the way things worked.

But _why_ did it have to be that way? _Why_ couldn’t Rose be the one? She liked this woman, and was more attracted to her than she’d ever been with anyone. She’d believed in soulmates all her life, but maybe the idea was wrong.

She took a sip of her drink, and responded to the other woman’s question. Rose did a double take and exhaled sharply when she heard that name – _Luisa Alver_ , the same one that had been imprinted on her wrist in a delicate cursive since she was a little girl. She wore a cuff to cover up the mark – it wasn’t all that uncommon a thing for people to do, and absolutely essential in her line of work – but her eyes flickered to it now, almost wonderingly.

Luisa did not notice, still reeling in the aftermath of her own revelation. The idea of a soulmate was something she’d been clinging to for such a long time, it felt odd to free herself of it. Still, best way to do that would be to throw herself in head first.

They’d talked for a long time, each falling deeper as they did. They memorised everything about one another – the way that their voices sounded whenever they were particularly animated about something, the way that their expressions changed, all the little nuggets of information they’d shared about themselves – Rose’s were mainly fabricated, but still, the sentiment was still there.

After some time, Rose leaned in closer to Luisa and whispered, an inviting smile on her face, ‘Want to get out of here?’

Luisa did.

* * *

 

They ended up sitting together at the side of a pool, shoes discarded somewhere nearby as their feet idly brushed against each other in the water. It felt like something out of a teen movie, and Luisa could scarcely believe that it was real.

‘So how long are you in town?’ She asked, inching herself yet closer to the other woman.

‘Just the weekend. I’m trying to close a deal but,’ her eyes flickered up to meet Luisa’s own, ‘my heart’s not in it.’ She laughed lightly, a sense of wonder in her voice. ‘I really wasn’t expecting this,’ she said, almost reverently. She meant it, too – in more ways than one.

‘Well,’ said Luisa, swallowing audibly, ‘you never know when lightning is going to strike.’

Luisa would later describe their following kiss as being like fireworks, and that was not far from the truth. The sensation of Rose’s lips moving against hers was unlike anything she’d ever felt, and sent an explosion of feeling throughout the body.

She wanted to do it again. And again. And again. And again.

And they did.

Again.

And again.

And again.

* * *

 

When Luisa found out that Rose was dating her father, it didn’t bother her as much as it should have.

Oh, she’d been _pissed_ – the woman may not have been her soulmate, but she’d really thought that there’d been something between them, that they’d be able to have a future despite that.

It didn’t work out that way, but that wasn’t to say that it couldn’t work out at all – it soon became abundantly clear that they couldn’t stay away from each other, as hard as either of them may try. They’d meet clandestinely, wherever and whenever they could. Their encounters were often short and to the point – there hadn’t been time for anything else, the fear of discovery always being too high.

But sometimes they had had time to talk. Once or twice, Luisa had brought up the concept of soulmates, to see what Rose thought of the issue. Rose had always brushed her off, doing her best to change the subject or even calling an end to their rendezvous. Luisa had eventually learned to stop asking, to let the subject lie.

Their relationship hadn’t been perfect, but it had been theirs. Luisa had been happy, mostly.

Then she found out about Sin Rosetro, and her world came crashing down.

She couldn’t believe it. The woman she’d been in love with – and she had been in love, there was no point in denying it to herself – was a notorious crime lord. She’d killed her father. She’d kidnapped her nephew. She’d had her _committed_ to a _mental institution_.

Luisa started believing in soulmates again. Not in the same way that she had before – it wasn’t some kind of vague hope for future happiness, a childish notion of what her life ought to be – but rather the only thing she had left to cling to. If she had a soulmate out there, it meant that she might one day meet her, that this seeming endless pit of despair might someday be alleviated.

She’d felt a thrill of hope the first time that she’d met Susanna. It had been exactly like the first time she met Rose – there’d been this tug, this inexplicable connection that seemed to pull her towards the other woman. She’d felt the same disappointment when she had told her her name, but once again – maybe despite her better instincts – decided to make a go of it.

It felt _so_ right. In some ways, her relationship with Susanna was better than her relationship with Rose had been. They could do things together that she’d never been able to do with the other woman – go on honest-to-god dates, introduce her to her family, be affectionate with each other in public . . . the list went on and on.

And she was there for her, in a way that Rose hadn’t always been able to be. She’d held her hand as she’d cried for the mother that it seemed she’d never really gotten to know, and had been able to provide her with _genuine_ comfort, the first she’d felt in a long time.

It was why Luisa was so willing to come to the police station when Susanna had rang her and asked if she’d be willing to fill in a few blanks on the Sin Rosetro case.  It was meant to be a routine meeting, just a couple of casual questions.

She hadn’t expected her world to be upended for the second time in a matter of months.

She looked at the images that Michael and Susanna were showing her numbly, their voices fading into a background din.

Rose was Clara. Clara was Rose.

Rose was her soulmate.

And she had been all this time.

Luisa felt sick, every negative emotion she’d ever felt rising to the surface. She forced herself to breath: _In, out, in, out_. This couldn’t be happening.

She sighed, tears filling her eyes. She fingered the tattoo on her wrist, wondering. Michael continued talking, oblivious, but Susanna stopped, looking and Luisa’s wrist with a sadness in her eyes. _I’m sorry_ , she thought absurdly, _I’m sorry that it has to be this way. I didn’t want you to find out like this._ She wanted to say it out loud, to let Luisa know how she felt, but couldn’t. Not yet.

Susanna placed a hand on Michael’s arm, silencing him with a look. ‘I think that’s enough for now,’ she said, gesturing to Luisa. ‘Let me take her home.’ He seemed like he wanted to continue talking, but nodded reluctantly.

Luisa sobbed into Susanna’s shoulder that night, harder than she’d cried in a long time. The blonde had smoothed her hair, and pressed kisses to her forehead. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, ‘I’m so sorry.’

There were layers to her apology, but Luisa was too distressed to pick up on them. It was something she’d think on when looking back, some time from now, and wonder if she should have realised then. But that’s getting ahead of herself. There is more of the story to tell.

* * *

 

 They moved forward, together. Rose – Clara – whatever she was calling herself, was long out of Luisa’s reach. Susanna was _there_ , right beside her, every step of the way. Being with her still felt right, despite her knowing with certainty who her soulmate was. That still confused Luisa, but she’d take what happiness she could get.

She agreed to Susanna and Michael’s scheme for two reasons: firstly, because she did want to help her girlfriend with the work that had been taking up so much of her energy lately, and secondly – this was the part that she wasn’t always willing to admit to herself – because she wanted to see Rose. She wanted to see her face, to look her in the eyes and ask her _why_ , to see if there was even the faintest possibility of them moving forward.

Something had felt a little off about Susanna that day – the pull that usually existed between them was absent – but Luisa shrugged it off, mind occupied with the impending reunion. She was lying in her hospital bed, covered in bandages and artfully applied fake blood, when she saw her.

Luisa’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the connection between the two snap back into place, as if she’d never felt it with anyone else. Oddly enough, Susanna was still in the room – face hidden and wearing a nurse’s scrubs – but there was nothing there. No force drawing them together.

Rose’s hair was shorter – and a different colour to when she’d last seen it – but other than that, she looked exactly the same. Her walk was as confident as ever, and she sported her usual cocky grin, though there was a softness around her eyes that she reserved on for Luisa.

‘Rose,’ Luisa breathed, momentarily forgetting about the plan, ‘You came!’

‘Of course I came,’ said Rose softly, sitting down next to Luisa and taking her hand, ‘I had to know that you were alright.’ She swallowed. ‘But now I have to go. You need to move on, Luisa.’

‘But why?’ She asked, some of her anger returning to her. ‘You’re my soulmate, Rose. Or _Clara_. How could you let me go that long thinking otherwise? How could you have done all that to me, knowing what I am to you?’

Rose had no answer that would satisfy her. She shook her head. ‘I love you, Luisa, but I had my plans. They’d been years in the making, and I couldn’t let anyone sabotage them. Not even you.’ She paused, giving Luisa time to digest this. ‘We both know that you’re not going to run away with me, so this has to be goodbye.’

Luisa didn’t want it to be. She was still angry, still heartbroken, still _reeling_ , but she didn’t want it to be over. Not yet, not without any kind of closure, at least. The connection between them was so powerful that it was painful, at times. Luisa told herself that was why she said her next, desperate words, ‘I mean . . . I could.’

Rose’s face softened, and she moved to caress Luisa’s own, but was interrupted by the sound of a gun cocking somewhere behind her.

It all happened very quickly after that – a whirl of threats, bribery and gunshots – and somehow it ended with Rose’s body on the ground, a blue cord wrapped around her throat. Everything became blurry, and Luisa screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

* * *

 

She dimly remembers being taken back to the Marbella and being wrapped in Susanna’s arms. The cord between them was back, but she was far too distraught for it to register with her.

Days passed, and Luisa couldn’t remember much of what had happened. She’d had blackouts before – a lot of them, back in the days when her drinking had been heaviest – but it hadn’t been anything like this. It was like a dark fog had descended into her mind, the only image that was constantly clear was that of Rose’s head, eyes lifeless and cocky smile dimmed.

Susanna had been there for her the whole time, doing whatever it was that Luisa needed. It didn’t alleviate her pain, but she made it bearable.

Then Susanna had broken up with her. It didn’t hurt her as much as it could have – the on again/off again nature of her relationship with Rose had kind of desensitised her to the permanency of break-ups, and she’d done it kindly. She’d made it clear that they weren’t completely over, but that Luisa needed some time to work on herself, and that rehab would be the best place for her to do that.

She’d been right. All that had happened lately had put a severe strain on her sobriety, and she could sense that she was on the verge of a relapse. Her pre-emptive check-in had tempered that, somewhat. In rehab, she wasn’t constantly surrounded by people and places that reminded her of Rose – there’d been little things, of course – but for the most part, she was able to focus on herself and her recovery, both physical and emotional. When she’d been there in the past, Luisa hadn’t always taken full advantage of all the therapy services they’d offered – she hadn’t thought that she’d needed it – but if recent months had taught her anything, it’s that she absolutely did.

Talking to someone – a professional, someone mostly anonymous that she wouldn’t have to interact with again unless she chose to – helped. It really had. When she left rehab, she wasn’t completely over it – she never would be – but she was feeling better than she had in months.

* * *

 

She got out in time to attend Jane and Michael’s wedding at Susanna’s side. It was a beautiful service, and she was happy for them – his Spanish wedding vows had made her tear up a little – but she couldn’t help but dwell on his words regarding soulmates. It became common practice years ago to include some mention of the concept into the standard wedding vows, and she found that they applied exactly to her feelings for Rose – but also Susanna. It was all deeply confusing, but even more so when she considered that she and Rose would never get to have this. Rose was dead. And even if she weren’t, in some kind of parallel universe, she would still be a criminal. A large, public wedding ceremony could never have been for them. She sighed, casting the thoughts from her mind. She looked over to Susanna and smiled, squeezing her hand lightly.

They laughed and danced together at the reception - Luisa felt a strange sensation of lightness come over her. It was completely at odds with the mood she’d been in for what felt like the longest time, but she thought that she’d like to hold onto it, and the woman that made her feel that way.

* * *

 

Susanna had ran out to get them some snacks, and Luisa sat back on the bed contentedly. Perhaps this time, she could be happy. She’d always miss Rose and what they could have had together, but maybe this was for the best. Soulmates caused a lot of pain, after all.

The door opened, and Susanna walked in to the room. There was an odd expression on her face, which immediately put Luisa on the alert. ‘So,’ said the blonde, appearing desperate to stay calm, ‘We need to leave, right now.’

Luisa’s brow furrowed in confusion, and she got up off the bed. ‘What? Why?’

The next few moments were the most bizarre of Luisa’s life. She watched in amazement as Susanna reached below her shirt and _pulled off her skin_ – or mask, or whatever – and revealed the person truly underneath.

 _Rose_.

‘Don’t look so surprised,’ she said with her trademark cocky smirk, ‘You know ours is the greatest love story ever told.’ She held out her hand. ‘Now come on. It’s time for us to go.’

‘Y-y-you’re alive?’ She stuttered, not believing her eyes. She reached out, almost without volition, and touched Rose’s face. The contact was the same as ever, and sent a thrill of excitement through her body.

‘But . . . how?’

‘I will explain everything to you, Luisa, but not now.  We need to get out of here.’

Luisa wasn’t sure what to think – her mind was a complicated mess of thoughts and emotions, each battling for dominance. Nothing in particular was winning, but the force of the battle was causing everything to appear as a haze.

One thought did manage to push itself forward, and it was one thing that Luisa found that she needed an immediate answer to. ‘Just . . . tell me one thing,’ she said, voice shaking, ‘Was Susanna ever . . . real? Was any of what we had real?’

Rose’s smile dropped at the distress in Luisa’s voice. ‘I was always Susanna, at least for as long as you’d known her. I needed her access to police resources for reasons of my own – which I’ll explain to you in full if you come with me. But I promise you, Luisa, the thing between us was real. Both times. I love you, Luisa, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I know you love me too – you fell in love with me twice, after all.’ There was a trace of smugness in her voice, which Luisa hated.

And loved.

So much.

 _God_ , what a mess. She’d waited her whole life to fall in love with Clara, only to almost discard the notion entirely when she’d met Rose. _Who turned out to be Clara_.  She’d clung to the idea even harder after Sin Rosetro, only to have Susanna shake it up once again. And now? _Susanna has turned out to be Rose._

What. The. Fuck.

But Rose – her _soulmate_ – was _alive_. She was alive after Luisa – and the world – had thought her dead. That was something.

Who was she kidding? That was _everything_.

She was under no illusions – she knew that everything wouldn’t magically be okay between the two of them. She knew that they had a lot of shit to sort through, and that a lot of that was very heavy. She knew that.

But she knew that she loved Rose – as smug as the other woman had been when she’d said it, she’d been right – she had fallen in love with her twice.

She’d also made her happy – both as Rose and Susanna. She couldn’t discount that, because what she wanted more than anything in the world, especially right now, was to be happy.

Rose extended her hand one last time, and said, ‘I’m going, Luisa, are you coming with me?’

Luisa took her hand – the hand of her soulmate – and together they left the hotel, left the memories it held and set out on their way to make new ones. It wouldn’t be easy, and it wouldn’t be perfect, but it was an ending. And a happy one at that.


End file.
